Waiting
by PenPerfect
Summary: This is MY perspective on Wilt and Frankie's pasts. They both hoped for their loved ones to return; as time passed their hope deteriorates.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Wilt story! Yay! **

**If I had to choose an episode/special of Foster's that was my favorite, I'd say "Good Wilt Hunting". I considered that special to be the most touching and saddest episode of the whole series. Like when we learn how Wilt loses not just his arm and half of his eyesight, but his creator's trust. I actually cried when I first saw Wilt's arm being crushed Foul Larry giant ass! I'm like most Wilt-fan girls, who adore this guy. He's not like boyfriend cute, but puppy dog cute.**

**I'm getting off-topic here. I know there's been a few fanfictions that expanded more on Wilt's past and how his life on the streets was a living hell, but this from MY point of view. It doesn't just talk about Wilt, but some of Frankie's past on how she came to Foster's. I've had it in my head for a while and those stories inspired me to make one.**

**Sorry if the first chapter sucks. I just got home from Las Vegas and learned a lesson there: There's nothing to do in Vegas, especially if you're not 21! **

**OK, sorry if I spoke too much, I'm gonna shut up so you can read it now!**

**Feel free to comment and I'll take some criticism too. **

**Disclaimer: I don't Foster's or the characters here. (I wish I did!)**

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><p><strong>Charleston, South Carolina 1976<strong>

_I'm sorry but I wish that this rain could stop._

This has been going on for what seem like weeks, maybe even months. It was hard to tell if it was daytime or nighttime since the clouds were completely blocking the bright blue sky and yellow sun. It would've been great to have some sunlight just so Wilt could see clearly. The puddles beneath his Chuck Taylors splashed from every step he took.

He would've taken a bus…but only one "small" problem, the red beanpole didn't have a cent on him. Hell, he can't even ask for a ride from a stranger, because he thought he would be too much of a burden to let someone drive him through this cold, cruel world.

Wilt then suddenly realized as he looked at his reflection in the puddle. "I'm a monster," he gasped. Wilt saw that his arm was disfigured in an unusual position and was hurting like hell. His eyestalk was crooked other than his left one. The pain in his whole body felt like an elephant had fallen from the sky and hammered on him, but then eventually got off of him afterwards.

Then he remembered…the game. The game that had brought him complete shame and had even disgraced Jordan .

He remembered it, like it just happened.

"_10 seconds guys, 10 seconds!" Stats shouted out loud to let the two teams know that time is almost up. Usually, 10 seconds would last for what seemed to the players enough time to make the last basket. Stats' scoreboard read 47 to 47 for both the Home and Away team. This court was now turning into a battle._

Who were the Home teammates? They were obviously the two greatest street basketball players of possibly the whole neighborhood within the heart of Charleston, one of them was 10-year old Jordan Michaels. Possibly the shortest boy of the block. At first he loved basketball ever since he saw his brother playing. But, there was one problem…he wasn't the best. Heck, he couldn't get the ball to touch the rim, let alone make a basket.

Originally, his brother use to rule the courts. But now, he is standing from the sidelines, scowling at him with envy when he spotted him.

Jordan couldn't have beaten his brother if it wasn't for his partner, Wilt. Ever since he was imagined, he was considered to be Jordan's only friend, since the kids around the block and at school would tease him for being short and frail. But Wilt would not tolerate those insults. Every day, he and Jordan would head down to the courts to teach Jordan the rules of basketball. He taught every technique he knew, even some of his secret ones.

Usually, they would practice for hours until the sun descended and faded from the sky.

The kids around the block would challenge them and would usually lose to the duo. For a whole year, they have defeated almost the whole neighborhood. Whether it was one on one or two on two.

But there was only one team to beat in order to be the most undefeated. It was the Visiting Team. One of them was the new kid, Joe Burdly, who lived down the street from Jordan's house. He was slightly taller Jordan by about 6 inches. Plus, he was physically a husky child, with long red hair locks covering parts of his scowling and freckled face. What his secret was to end up getting the score tied was fouling. He would usually push and shove Jordan out of his way and step on Wilt's feet to get the ball.

His partner was not who Jordan and even Wilt expected. He was also an imaginary friend who was imagined days before the game. Larry was his name or what neighborhood kids famously call him "Foul" Larry, since he is known to noticeably cheat in matches and threatens them to not go against them. He stood at least 2 feet higher than Wilt, since he was only 10 feet high. His orange bulky body was wide enough to block Jordan. He was even strong enough lift Wilt off the ground, making the crowd gasp and boo at them. The red beanpole knew that this might be the toughest game he has ever played.

What made Wilt and Jordan despised them more than the technical fouls, that were getting annoying, was that they were both wearing matching basketball uniforms that were green. They knew they had to be fans of the Boston Celtics, whom are the team Wilt and Jordan loathed so much. They were fans of the Harlem Globetrotters_. _

_As Larry finally reached his opponents' side, he was attempting to score a two pointer to win. Wilt went under the basket and sky rocketed to try and steal the ball from him. What he didn't see was that Jordan was getting back on offense to catch the ball. Larry finally was released the ball into the air. Wilt was determined to get that ball to end the game with at least a tie; But, he knew how important this game is and thought a tie was not acceptable for Jordan's sake. _

_The orange giant was watching the ball as it soared, but gravity was not coping with him and little did he know, he was about plummet to where Jordan was guarding! _

_Wilt's eyes widened by the sight and panic immediately made a strike to his concentration, making him miss the ball completely. The image of Jordan injured sent him charging toward him, he would have no one to blame but himself. The crowd witnessed the action and silenced as they Wilt hollering to Jordan, who under Larry's shadow. _

_He closed his eyes and tensed his muscles to prepare himself for the pain that was about to enter him._

Remembering that pain made Wilt's body hurt even more; he knew he needed help. The pain was caused by Larry, since his immense body weight sat on his arm and the ball targeted his left eyestalk, leaving him half blind.

He had to find a hospital or something.

He then traveled on, limping his way to wherever he can find shelter. Even though he wanted to come back home, he knew how disappointed Jordan must be. He then had a small debate with his inner thoughts. "Why would he want me anymore? I'm just a loser…a broken loser," his thoughts were proving their point. Why would he care? Why would anyone care? Every kid will just considered him as a total deception and a phony. Thanks to him, Jordan would be an outcast again. He could hear Jordan's last words echoing in his brain:

"_Aw, man! We lost!"_

Tears then dripped from his right eye; It was hard for Wilt to tell if it were his tears or the raindrops pouring down on his face. He then found a small dark alley, after traveling for about 10 miles. Then he found a box that was about the right size for him to bunch his whole thin body in. As the box sheltered him, he can finally recognize the warm salty tears running down and began to quietly sob.

"I'm sorry, Jordan, I'm so sorry."

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><p>"Wilt!" a voice shouted. The puddles splashed under Jordan's feet. He was panicked by the news Stats told him about Wilt's sudden disappearance. No evidence, no note nor anything. Jordan looked through the various places around town, but he was having no luck. It felt like a torturous game of Hide and Seek, except you can never find their path nor their hiding spot.<p>

He had searched everywhere, then returned to the basketball court where that faithful game took place. Then looked down to see something familiar on the hard wet concrete, a wet and soggy wristband that Wilt must have left. He held it in his hands to stare at it. Memories were now surrounding head.

Wilt wasn't just a coach…or a friend…but for some reason he seem like a father.

He remembered back when he was younger, when his real father passed away. He died of a cardiac arrest and help arrived too late. His father promised him that he would teach him to play, since he did join the basketball team during high school. It felt as though his hopes were slowly tumbling away.

Ever since Wilt was imagined he had a similar personality of his late father. It seemed that the spirit of him was inside of Wilt.

Jordan even remembered the exact words that he once asked him:

"_I bet that we could beat almost everyone in the neighborhood"._

_Wilt warmly smiled down at him, after they won their 3__rd__ game in a row and headed on home. He then ruffled his afro a little and responded, "I bet we might too, as long as we try our hardest, there's no way we'll lose."_

Looking back, hearing those words he said made him realized how much he counted on Wilt. He was giving attention and a reputation that he shared along with Wilt; but he felt as though he was stealing it from him. Because, the red beanpole had a natural-born ability and that he deserved the credit. Honorability may feel worthy for a while, eventually it slowly turns to envy from others.

He returned back to the court, back where he started and received the news, looked down at the concrete that was being hit by hundreds of raindrops. Jordan then saw something rejecting the dripping pattern that made his eyes pop out. It was a wristband that was completely soaked. It was Wilt's; he picked it up and stared at it.

"I'm sorry, Wilt." he squealed softly as tears began to form. But he defied his tears to pour.

That was when he was in total despair and dismay and walked home to tell his mother and brother that Wilt has "moved on". He didn't care if his mom was angry at him for being in this sort of weather. Jordan will have to learn to move on too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here you go, Chapter 2! I feel like this one was rushed, since I start school in like 2 weeks! :P**

**Hope you like it! I'll also take any critisism. But don't be so harsh in your comments, like cursing or something! **

**Oh, speaking of cursing, WARNING: there is some in there, but not alot. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends. **

**I only own Dr. Lindale.**

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><p>Several hours later, the storm started to lessen and lessen until the pitter-patter of rain turned into silence. Wilt awoke still in the soggy, leaky box, he crawled out and slowly attempted to stand up, since his long legs were sore and shaky. He let out a groan as he stretched his body, His broken arm then let out a sharp pain through out his veins and he gasped loudly. It felt excruciating rather than relieving after having possibly the worst slumber of his life.<p>

Wilt then continued to move on, cradling his now fractured arm into his left arm; the sky was still gray and gloomy, but it was bright enough for him to see. He was praying that it wouldn't rain anytime soon.

He tried to ignore the people who bump into him or stare at him. Even one little boy pointed at him, curious to know about him. Wilt tried to walk as fast as he could, even tried to power walk, but he was too weak to try.

_4 days later_

For a total of at least 10 hours he traveled 23 miles away, he was out of the state of South Carolina by now. Before he knew it, the darkness ascended into the sky. The beanpole knew that during the night time, it was a dangerous environment, especially on the streets he was at. They looked like the ones from the movies. He and Jordan have watched a lot of movies about gangs and guns; they even got into a theater one time to see a violent movie. It was a test of survival for Wilt, Survival of the Fittest. He wasn't fit enough to escape, he even thought that this would be his last night.

Then a voice rang out, "Hey, you!" It sound like a low tough voice. Wilt turn around to find the owner of that voice. He then saw an African-American man who looked like he was around his late 20s or early 30s. He was sort of buff looking, but still looked average size.

"Who, me?" Wilt asked weakly; he was then trembling not just in pain, but in fear too. It felt that he was going to fall on his knees in front of this stranger.

"Whatcha doin' out here?" the man asked him in a soft voice.

"Oh, nothing. I'm trying to look for a hospital to go to." The beanpole replied, then coughed loudly. He had that annoying cough since yesterday's storm.

"Aw, you pitiful thing. You know in this 'hood I actually have a cure for you."

"Really?" Wilt asked with his eye widening with hope. Maybe he could help him. But why was this guy coming closer to him, like he was about to attack him? "What is it?" he asked, under his naïve nature.

"This." the man replied. He showed Wilt his "cure" for his suffering. Wilt's eye widened even more and gasped at it. What was in this man's right hand was _a sharp blade._

"WHAT? You're kidding me!" he said as the thug stepped on his foot and Wilt finally fell to the ground. He then was grabbed by the neck, that hurt more than his aching legs and empty stomach. But it didn't top his broken arm.

"The hell I am, you son of a bitch!" he cursed as he held the blade in front of his neck. To Wilt, he smelled like alcohol, knowing that he must've been drinking. He struggled to get himself out, as he made it out of the man's arm. But at the speed of light, the knife slash his left upper lobe and his right middle one.

Wilt then quickly tried to run, but he wasn't as fast as he used to be. All this pain and fatigue was slowing him down more than ever. The man was catching up to him, holding his now bloody blade. "Get back, here! You run like a bitch!"

Wilt still holding his arm, felt as though it might just fall apart. He turned around a corner on the sidewalk; knowing he's up close he then found a dark alley behind him.

The homicidal drunk maniac was getting warmer on his track. But, he didn't bother looking in the alley, since the night sky made it impossible to spot the red pole. Wilt spotted him with his only working eye, praying that he wouldn't find him. The killer then ran pass his hiding spot.

Wilt sighed in relief and tried to smile for that. He hid there for a few minutes to make sure it was safe, if he was near. Fortunately, he wasn't. He then continued limping along the street, until the clouds formed, covering up the star covered sky and full moon. Rumbling thunder was heard and drops of water were felt on Wilt's head and it irritated his messed up eye.

"Oh, perfect," Wilt groaned as the rain fell harder.

What was also bad enough, his senses started to weaken right to the point of fainting.

His arm was now starting to get infected. He was gravely ill from the weather of blustery winds and powerful rainstorms. His legs felt wobbly after hours of walking and days without any food or water and gave up on him, making him drop on the hard cold concrete. The lobes on his face were now bleeding heavily than before. His eyelids were heavy to stay open, pleading for sleep. Wilt then let his eyes accept it.

What he didn't know was that he was laying on part of the road.

"_I don't deserve live anymore. Just take me, Lord, take me. I'm ready to die." _

There maybe a possibility that his wish might be granted as he saw headlights of a vehicle heading towards him. His eyes gave up on him and everything was black.

The vehicle was actually a black car with a falcon on top of the hood. It suddenly screeched as it approached an unidentified object. "What on earth is that?" the owner of the car shouted in a feminine tone. "I bet it's one of those hooligans who's been out drinking!" The car horn honked a few times, but no response. "I guess I'm gonna have to do it by myself."

Who came out of the unique car, was surprisingly a plump women around her early 50s with slightly blonde hair in a bun, wearing glasses. She then gasped by what she saw near her feet; an imaginary friend that has a fractured arm that was turning black and blood pouring from his face.

By the looks of this it looked like the scene of a homicide. She had to help this poor thought. She spotted a phone booth, placed 50 cents in and dialed 911. "Yes, I need an ambulance, now. I've just found an imaginary friend with a disfigured arm lying on the streets. I'm at Darwin St. !"

Wilt he heard the voice, but considered it to be his mind tricking. He was breathing heavilly as his blood ceased to circulate his arm and was pouring out of his deep wounds. His blurred vision caused him to slowly shut his eyes to await his death.

_"Goodbye, world. Goodbye, Jordan."_

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><p>His eye opened to see if he was in heaven. Everything was all white, until his vision started cooperating. What he saw was a white light flashing in front of him, which made him squint.<p>

He knew something felt different than before; other than not being in panic, but he felt less pain than before, which was odd. Also, he couldn't feel his aching arm anymore.

Wilt looked down to see, nothing but a bandaged stump with a small hint of blood. He then screamed in terror.

"Where am I? And where's my arm? It's gone!"

"You're in a hospital." a young voice rang out. At the doorway was a doctor, who was around 35 with thinning hair. "We nearly thought you were goner there, by the look of your condition. An ambulance brought you here a few hours ago."

"I'm sorry, but why am I MISSING my ARM?"

"Oh, yes, that. That's…another thing, by your previous condition, we had to do…an amputation."

"A what?" did Wilt just hear that right? Since he never heard of the word before.

"In other words, your arm's infections was serious…so they had to…had to…" it was hard for the doctor to continue as he knew this would upset him even more. But Wilt got the picture, and tears started to form into his eyes, but held them in to not prove he was weak. "I'm sorry."

Also, the cuts on your face were deep so we had to stitch them up, since there was nothing we could do to treat them."

The doctor, Dr. Lindale went up to friend to comfort him as Wilt continued to fight his tears, but it was no use. Not only did he lose a game and a friend, but it also cost him a limb.

He wanted to jump out of the bed and punch the wall or window something. But, he held his tantrum to himself, since he was hooked up to all those machines.

Now he transformed into a broken freak, which was what he'll be for the rest of his life.

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><p>As a day came by, Wilt was waking up after quietly sobbing himself to sleep. Throughout the day, the doctors and nurses treated him with kindness. He didn't feel like he deserved all this attention because he lost a limb. Why should they care? They face amputated patients all the time. Don't they?<p>

Then Dr. Lindale came through the door and asked, "Hey, buddy. How are you?" He knew the look on his face. He then turned to see that he hardly even touched his breakfast. Walking toward his side he said, "I know it's hard, but I know you can get through this. You got pretty lucky for surviving that long in that condition."

"Really?"

"Yep. Oh, the reason I came in here is because I didn't get your name. Do you have one?"

Wilt then paused, because he actually felt like an idiot for nearly forgetting his own name.

"Wilt. I'm Wilt", the friend said. For the first time he actually had a hardly visible yet warm smile.

"Also, you've got a visitor." the door then open to reveal an elderly woman, who was the one who called 911.

"Hello, dear. Are you feeling any better?" she asked in a sweet voice.

"A little. How are you?"

"Fine thank you." she said back. "If you want to know who I am my name's Martha Foster."

"I'm Wilt."

Throughout the past six weeks of recovery and physical therapy, Martha came over every single day to visit him until the hours passed. They would talk, laugh and ask. In a way, her voice sort of reminded Wilt of Jordan's grandma (minus the cheek pinching). She was sure to bring a smile on his face.

But, the woman wanted to ask the friend where he came from.

"Dearie, what on earth happened to you? When I first found you were torn like someone tortured you!"

Wilt then paused walking across the hallway, without limping. His legs were now receiving strength as Wilt gained his balance. He nearly forgot about the incident, he didn't want anyone to know about this.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"It's just…I don't think it's any of your concern, is that okay?"

He looked to see the old woman staring at him, as though she was looking through him. She can tell that he was hiding something. "Come on, Wilt. Out with it."

"Well, I was made by a kid, who loved to play basketball."

"I could tell you were a basketball fan, 'cause you're so tall." she joked as Wilt chuckled back. They headed back to his room as he continued. The woman seem very interested as a child learning about their grandparents when they were young.

"Anyways, we were inseparable. We were the best players in the neighborhood. Until, one day, everything changed. My boy was counting on me, but instead I ended up disappointing him and-." Wilt paused as he bit his lip. He really didn't want to go in full details.

The woman's blood boiled through her veins, thinking that this child must have been very abusive and brutal to him, that Wilt ran off to escape this torture. Now look where he's at: In a hospital, handicapped, stitched up with a blind eye. "There, there, it's alright dear. I know what you've been through."

"Oh, it's not what you're th-" Wilt tried to explained.

"Don't you worry, sweetie. I know of a place for someone like you."

After that, she checked Wilt out of the hospital and they both head toward Madame Foster's Firebird Car. The red beanpole stared in awe at the automobile.

She opened the door for him, but then noticed Wilt's size, "Oh, I hope you don't mind it being a bit snug."

"Oh, no. I'll just try to squeeze in, if that's okay." he then bent down and ducked into the car. His legs were scrunched in the front seat. To Wilt it did seem uncomfortable. He didn't want to sound picky about it.

Martha then started the car and moved on.

It was rather silent, through out this long exhausting trip, rather than the radio being on. It was on the oldies station, which was annoying. Wilt wondered where she was taken him.

"Madame, sorry to ask, but, where are we going?"

"Oh, you'll see. We're almost there."

As Wilt looked through the window, it seemed that every mile they passed was clearing the troubles out of his mind. But, Jordan was still permanent in his heart.

Martha, then made a complete stop to their final destination. He turned to see Wilt sound asleep; she reached over to gently shake his shoulder. "We're here."

He awoken and opened the door, then stretched his muscles and let out a huge yawn. "Where are we?" he drowsily asked.

"This is Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, we've recently opened for business, an imagination habitation for all friends given up by their owners. We have a small number of friends here."

"I'm not sure about this."

"Oh, don't worry dear. You'll feel welcome here once you're inside. Now come on, smile, Wilt. It makes a bad impression. Come on." she said. Wilt then gave a simple smile. "Bigger."

He then gave a famously huge toothy grin, which actually frightened her a little, but a smile was all that matters.

They walked up towards the door, then opened it. Wilt ducked down the doorway and looked around.

"Herriman! We got another one!" Martha yelled. Wilt felt safe and secured here, thinking he might get used to starting a new life here.

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><p>As new friends and families arrived he was always bring out a warm smile that would make them smile back. He would comfort the friends that were recently given up and showed them a smile, which didn't make them feel sad and alone, but made them feel welcome to their new home, until a new family comes to adopt them. He waved farewell to those fortunate friends.<p>

One day, he was walking down the hall to get some excercise, until one of the friends was known as Bloppy Pants was having trouble completing his chore: Reaching the cobwebs on the ceiling.

"Hey, you need some help? You look like you're having trouble reaching." Wilt asked kindly. The grey cat looked up to see the thin beanpole looking down at him.

"Oh, no...but...um, thank you...I got it here. Mr. Herriman expects me to do this"

"No, it's okay, I insist. Because, I'm sorry to say, but you can't even reach. I got it." Wilt got the broom and easily reached up the corner ceiling and caught the webs, which left Bloppy in shock. "Here you go."

"Oh, thanks, Wilt." Bloppy thanked him and smiled up at him.

"No, problemo." Wilt felt as though he just did something good as a boy scout helping a senior across the street. It was a sense of pride knowing he just helped someone and was given a smile in return.

He was given many "thank yous" in return for given them a hand (no pun intended), even if they didn't need it. But, as Wilt's kindness and helpfulness around the house continued, the residents, including Mr. Herriman and Madame Foster then started using him and taking advantage of him, frequently. But, Wilt didn't seem to notice it; all he wanted to do was to do anything he can to make everyone happy and satisfied. If he did this for Jordan, he wouldn't have been turned down by him.

But those days were over, all he had to do was give a smile, even if it was fake. Even with that toothy grin during the worst of times, would hide the pain he was actaully feeling inside until it dissapeared. The only pain he would feel would be in his cheekbones.


	3. Chapter 3

_A month later…_

Why was today so exciting? Wilt wondered, carrying the large plate of cupcakes; Maybe it's for Adopt-a-Thought Saturday, I mean today's Friday. Their just preparing for tomorrow, I bet.

Almost all of the friends were getting really excited for something, he tried to asked but would easily get interrupted by them, rambling on the subject of their children who created them which was random. Some of them even asked Wilt about his kid, he just simply ignored it or just said, "He was a good kid, he loved basketball, is that okay? Okay!" and simply hurry away.

He got outside onto the porch and placed the pastries on the table. Madame Foster then walked passed him; he stopped her in her tracks, "I'm sorry, but what's going on here?" at first the woman didn't know what he meant by that.

"What do you mean, sweetie?"

"I mean, everybody's all psyched and excited, plus some were even talking about their kids."

She forgot that Wilt was still new in the house.

"Oh, well the friends are all excited because The 5-year annual Reunion Picnic is near."

"Reunion? Do they have family members?" Wilt asked feeling stupid. Since when do imaginary friends have relatives?

"No, silly. It's an event that takes place every 5 years when the creators whom outgrew their imaginary friends get another chance to meet them again for the weekend."

"_Creator?" _the word echoed in Wilt's brain.

"Just so they can catch up with each other if they need to, talk about their personal lives, share fond memories, forgiving and forgetting their mistakes," she continued. The last part in her sentence made Wilt's spine shiver and heart sink. Madame Foster noticed Wilt's spaced out and worried expression, "Wilt, are you okay?"

He snapped back into reality, "Oh, yeah."

As time went by, he saw many of the imaginaries running towards their creators who were either older kids, teenagers, adults and even seniors, not including Madame Foster. Smiles and laughs were what he saw. Wilt was happy for them because nothing serious happened that affected their friendship and…that neither of them were him.

He went up the front gate, greeting people and watching them head toward their creations. A sad smile was shown on his face when they were together. But, shows a famous smile showing his pearly white teeth when gave his attention.

As the sun descended, he decided to head back inside. "Hey, look it's Wilt!" a voice called out. He froze in his tracks as short friend and his creator who was now in his late 30s. Wilt showed his huge smile, "Hey, what's happening? Having a good day?"

"You bet we are! Hey Wilt, where's your creator?" he asked. Wilt stammered as he stared at them, trying to come up with an excuse for Jordan's absence.

"Oh…umm…he…uh…couldn't make it today. Yeah, yeah. H-he couldn't make today, but I'm sure he'll be there tomorrow, I bet. Well, it's late and I'm pretty tired, see ya in the morning!" he quickly said as he ran upstairs like he was being chased by a cheetah. He was a little _too_ fast than usual.

"He's knows it's only 6:30, right?" the man asked.

Why would he come back looking for me? I'm worthless! A has-been! Wilt's brain shouted. He'll never forgive me!

Through the whole weekend, he spent all day at the front gate. He felt like an outcast, seeing everyone happy. Even as those two days passed and he helped pack it all up, he still felt a great depression. It'd take days, weeks and even months for the poor friend to let it go until another 5 years.

"I've noticed that you haven't been with your creator. I'm sorry he couldn't make it. There's always another 5 years, Master Wilt." Mr. Herriman assured the thought as he was picking up the trash.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. I'm sure he'll come…eventually." Wilt said. He went inside and sat on the stairs of the center foyer.

More than eventually, more like…Never.


	4. Chapter 4

_6 years later…_

The doorbell rang. Madame Foster was awaiting for someone to arrive, her son Nathan Foster. Ever since he was a child, he would usually help around Foster's to nurture and care for many abandoned thoughts. When he left for college out of state, it was usually rare that he would come to visit but he did make calls to the house.

The friends that have stayed at Foster's, besides Mr. Herriman would know about Nathan and await his arrival. Now, he was out of college and was recently married to his girlfriend, Kathryn. They are bring to the elderly woman the surprise of her life.

Nathan was a young man with brunette hair, dressed in a green buttoned shirt and brown pants. He bent down to hug the Madame. "Hey, mom. How's business."

"Hi, sweetie." she then gave him a kiss on both of his cheeks. He made sure she have any lipstick on, which, thank goodness she didn't have. "Oh, its wonderful, son."

Mr. Herriman happen to see the young boy. During Nathan's childhood he used to be a major troublemaker, but was a big help around the house. It was nice for the rabbit to finally have a few years to himself as he was in college.

"Ah, yes. Master Nathan it is a pleasure to be seeing you again."

"Ah, long ears you haven't changed a bit!" the man taunted him, punching him a little on the shoulder.

Who came near the door was Kathryn a black haired woman who wore a purple dress and heels. "Oh, you must be Miss Kathryn."

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you. I want you to know I absolutely adore imaginary friends, but I could never create one. It's wonderful for us to stay here for a few months until we're on our feet again."

What was in her arms was a bundle. "So, son, where's that little one of yours?"

"This is her…Francis. Named after Kathryn's Grandma."

Kathryn gave the bundle to the Madame as Mr. Herriman looked over her shoulder. The infant was just waking up and her emerald eyes glowed. Francis' skin was a pale and had short, yet bright red hair in a small ponytail. Martha gasped by how beautiful she was.

"Good Heavens, what a beautiful young child." Mr. Herriman said. As his hand was near her, she then grabbed his finger as he struggled to bring it out of her grasp. She ended up getting his glove. Everyone laughed by the sight. "Miss Francis, this is not the acceptable behavior that I expect from you!"

"Herriman, just chill! She's only 6 months old."

"Those suitcases seem heavy. I'll get some help. WILT! ASSISTANCE PLEASE!" It seems the Madame's voice was still strong. Whom the couple saw was Wilt, they stared in awe by how tall he was rather than his arm and face. He gave a friendly grin and waved.

"Oh, hi. You must be Nathan and Kathryn."

"Wilt, could please lead them to their room and place Frankie to the nursery?"

"Sure."

"You even have a nursery? For imaginary friends?" Kathryn asked in surprise.

"Sometimes kids imagine babies to care for their own to be "parents", Wilt informed the couple as they finally made it to their room. "I'll take her to the nursery if that's okay."

Wilt carried the bundle in his arm, he peeked through the blanket to see a beautiful red haired baby girl. He gasped by what he saw; he never seen such a beautiful baby. "Hi, Frankie." he said to her. Frankie only just stared at him.

"I know you've already gotten this before but, welcome to the world." he then grinned at her. She then she attempted to smile but barely. Wilt then felt his heart flutter as he smiled back. They made it to the nursery and placed Frankie into a crib.

Wilt only watched her for a few minutes watching the baby move around her limbs, gurgling gibberish. He felt hypnotized by her emerald eyes, by placing his hand to tickle to her sending her to a laughing. "Coochie, coochie, coohie!" he cooed at her, until Frankie finally grabbed a hold to his long suction cup index finger. "Hey! Whoa! Strong grip!"

As Frankie held on, Wilt felt his heart warm up. As though she accepted him no matter if he was a broken freak that can easily freak anyone.

The couple went through the door to see a ten foot tall red figure bent down against the crib as they heard their daughter's squeal. "Well, sounds like she's having a good time," Kathryn chuckled. Wilt heard the voice and stopped taunting with the baby.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't-" Wilt stuttered in embarrassed.

"No, don't be. You ever gotten adopted? I bet kids would want you." Nathan said.

"Oh, why would they want someone like me? I wouldn't say I'm an expert with kids.", the tall friend replied in modesty as he looked down at his sneakers.

"Well, Frankie looks like she likes you." Kathryn said. Wilt looked over his shoulder to see the infant smiling and giggling at him. He smiled back.

As time passed, she and her family found a house that was about 20 miles away. Nathan would work like he used to, but with payment. What warmed him was seeing Frankie playing with the friends, when Kathryn had to work.

Throughout the past few months, Wilt felt cheerful inside. He would usually spend time with the young infant daily. Feeding, playing and bathing her. Plus, getting her to sleep was easy since Wilt would lull her with his deep, soothing voice. Of course, he gives time for the parents to spend time with her as he went on with his routine.

Wilt was Frankie's favorite friend out of the whole house, in front of Coco and Eduardo whom she would she would hang out with the most.

He never felt this way for a child before since Jordan. It seemed that he was able to make her happy every time she was with him. Even for the most tiniest mistakes he would make; he would expect Frankie to be disappointed and hate him, but since she was only an infant, it was easy for her to forgive.

But, things took a turn one day. Kathryn and Nathan were just finish packing their things after a small visit and still awaited Wilt to bring Frankie down along with his recent roommates Eduardo and Coco for one last farewell.

"Thanks for making us stay, Mom."

"Oh, it's no trouble." his mother said. Just like the couple, she knew about Wilt's close friendship with the now 2 year old Frankie.

She then ran towards her grandma and hugged her tightly, "I'll miss you, grandma."

"I'll miss you more, sweetie." she then kissed her cheek.

Mr. Herriman hopped out of his office to say goodbye as well and said, "It has been a pleasure for you to arrive here to visit here again. Along with Miss Francis."

"Mr. Herriman, I'm Frankie, not Miss Francis." she complained with annoyance. Then went up to hug him and released him.

Eduardo was about to break into tears, "Adios, Frankie, I miss you". He picked the child up into his giant, warm furry arms in a huge bear hug.

"Don't worry Ed, I'll come back to see you. Then we can have our tea parties again.", Frankie promised him as she was fighting for air to breathe. Gasping a little as Eduardo released her.

She then turn to Coco, who looked down at her. Frankie hugged her tanned bare legs.

"Coco, coco co, coco." Coco chirped, then for some odd apparent reason licked the child. Nathan and Kathryn stared in disbelief at the sight.

"That's Coco for you, son." the mother joked.

Finally, she raced up to Wilt while he bent down to her height to hug her. She then whispered, "I'll miss you the most, Wilt."

His eyes widened and smiled warmly by the child's comment, "I'll miss you, too." he whispered back. "I sure hope you come back soon."

"I will."

She waved as she disappeared from the door along with her parents, again.

After about several months since they left, it's been real quiet without adventurous redheaded little girl. Everyone at Foster's were awaiting her return as much as the Madame. She grabbed the ringing phone answering, "Hello, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends."

Wilt came down the stairs to see the elderly lady with a worried look on her face. He could that something was wrong. She was putting on her coat. "Madame Foster, I'm sorry but are you okay?"

"Honey, I need to head off to the hospital."

The beanpole continued his way down, with a concerned look, "Why? What happened?"

"It's Nathan and Kathryn," she said in a sad voice; it sounded like as though she was about to burst into tears. "Their house caught on fire. I have to leave now."

"Wait, what about-" Wilt was interrupted by the slamming of the front door. "Frankie?"

The woman drove at a constant speed until she parked right in front of the hospital. Racing through the halls, she found a door opened. She saw a young Frankie covered in bandages and blackened in certain areas of her body. The expression that was on her face was fear.

"Grandma?" she said in a weak voice. Luckily, she recognized her and ran towards her. Frankie started crying hardly. "Do you know where mommy and Daddy are?"

"That's the question I wanted to know. Are you alright? I heard about the fire."

"It's was so scary and it was so hot in there. Then these two men came and took me in a ambulance." Then a doctor came into the room, interrupting the child's story.

"Are you the mother of Nathan Foster?"

"Yes?" the elderly woman said.

"Where's my Mommy and Daddy?" Frankie screamed loudly.

"I feel that we should talk in private. I don't think I should tell Frankie about it."

They left the room, leaving Frankie confused and worried. Knowing that she didn't receive an answer from nobody. The doctor and Madame Foster went through the hall, a few doors away from Frankie's room. The woman was worried about his son's and daughter in law's conditions.

"Doctor, how did this happen?"

"According to the fire department and investigators, the fire was caused a major gas leak. It caused the house to burst into flames and brought it to the ground."

"How's my son? Where is he?" she said. That question made the doctor gulp.

"There is no easy way of saying this, ma'am. But-. They couldn't find them in the flames. I'm truly sorry." the doctor said with sadness in his voice and walked off. This left her in shock and nothing else.

Her only son, her pride and joy was perished and engulfed in flames. Now he was nothing but ashes and dust. Her eyes were now filled with tears and sobbed in the hall. How can she tell her young granddaughter that? It would just break her heart.

A week went by and Frankie was improving in her health. During the visiting hours, she would entertain the child by telling her stories, playing board games and some days, Mr. Herriman and some of the residents. She was wheeled out of the hospital and they drove off in silence in the car. Until she asked, "Grandma, where's Mommy and Daddy?" Her grandma looked down.

"They left somewhere."

"Where'd they go and why didn't they take me?"

"Someplace far away from here, sweetie."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's called, Heaven, Frankie. It's a wonderful place where they can live in peace together."

"Why didn't they take me with them?"

"Because, you were asleep and they didn't want to wake you. Plus, it's not for little kids to go into."

"And they didn't even say goodbye!" Frankie complained. Madame Foster's heart started to hurt more.

"They were in a hurry. But, they told me to tell you that they love you very, very, very, much."

"When they come back, I'm gonna tell them that I miss them so much and that I love them very, very, very, very, very, very much!", she said with enthusiasm, hoping her parents would return from this place called Heaven.

Madame Foster soon after gain custody to Frankie and now had to let her live in her imaginary foster home.

Mr. Herriman and the friends mourned over this loss secretly away from the child. "Grandma, why are you taking me to Foster's? I'm not an imaginary friend." Frankie asked playfully.

"Well, you're going to live with me for a little while, because your house got destroyed by the fire," at least the Madame knew one good reason not to return to the site. The poor child had no clue on reality or the facts of life.

Every day, Frankie would wait on the stairs, staring at the door until Mr. Herriman ordered her by his thousands of rules, no sitting on the staircase. When the doorbell rang she'd excitingly charged to the door, but disappointed to see another family here to adopt or leave a friend.

Even at school, she saw parents holding onto their kids' hands. But, Frankie was only held onto Wilt's hand. When are they ever coming back? They even missed all of her birthdays.

One day, Wilt spotted the young girl staring at the doorway across from her. He walked towards her as the squeaking of his sneakers got her attention, she stared up at him, smiling. "Hi, Wilt."

"Hey, whatcha doing down here?" cocking his head to the side, making his eye rattle.

"I'm waiting for my mommy and daddy to come back. They've been gone for a long time now. They're never gone this long."

It seemed that Frankie has never knew about her parents' death. "Oh."

"So, I'm waiting right here until they come back."

Wilt knew he needed to tell her, but she's just too young to understand. His mind was in debate whether to tell the truth or not. "Um…Frankie…uh…about your parents…um."

"What about them, Wilt?" Frankie asked turning her head around with awe shown on her face.

"Well…they're…uh…not going to-" as Wilt tried to finish his sentence, he looked to see that her face was about to turn worried or sad. Her eyes stared up at him and her lips bunched up as though she was about to cry. He couldn't bare to see her like this. Why would he tell her this now? He then finished his sentence with, "believe how much you've grown up."

Frankie's face lightened up again. Wilt thought that she may need company after sitting on that stair for an hour. "Is it okay if I wait with you?"

"Okay."

Wilt then sat down beside her on her right. As time moved on, she started talking about what she and her parents use to do before the fire and how she will surprise them at the door. He then gave an uncharacterized chuckle by her behavior.

"_I'm sorry, but should I tell her? What will she think? I hope I won't ruin her life."_

He has to tell her one day…Someday.

After 4 years of waiting, Frankie couldn't take it anymore. She packed up her suitcase and struggled to get down the stairs. She reached the door until a voice stopped her.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" she turned to see that it was Wilt standing behind her.

"I'm going to find my parents. They've been gone for too long!" she shouted as she opened the door. "I'm going to find this "Heaven" place and go with them."

Wilt knew that Frankie was still believing that her parents were alive. But, he knew that he couldn't the truth in any longer. He must tell her the truth that's been held for 4 years. The 6 year old was halted by Wilt's foot in her way.

"Frankie, um…There's something…that I think you should know by now." Wilt said in a serious tone. He closed the door as Frankie stood there and followed Wilt towards the stairs and sat down next to him.

"What is it?"

"Well…it's about you're parents…" he started. Wilt continued, "They were killed by the fire. It burnt them until they were dust. They didn't want to tell you, so they don't upset you."

Frankie's eyes widened and tears were forming, "What?"

"I'm sorry, Frankie, but you're parents aren't coming back." Wilt concluded. Frankie couldn't believe it! All this time it was all a lie. She went back upstairs and ran into her room. Wilt tried to stop her, "Wait, Frankie!"

She laid on her bed, sobbing. Her pillows start getting wet with her tears of sadness. Frankie felt like an idiot for not knowing about this. All that she wanted to do was to stay in her room forever. She then heard a knock on her door.

"I'm not coming out. Everything was a lie." tearfully whining with her head still on her pillow. Who she expect was her grandmother, but it was actually Wilt who ducked down the doorway showing a sympathetic and guilty look in his eyes. She could tell by the squeaking of his shoes.

"Frankie? It's me, Wilt. Can I come in?" he walked towards the weeping child and sat right next to her. He sat there in silence, recalling the events that happened an hour ago; He felt regretful telling her. "Listen, if that's okay, I know that you're upset about your parents. I'm sorry that I told you. Is that okay? 'Cause if you don't forgive me, I understand."

"No, Wilt. That's okay. I wanted to know where they really were." Wilt patted the child's red hair to comfort her. Frankie felt like an idiot for not knowing the truth and believing her grandma's story. "Why did Grandma lie to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"'Cause she told me that they left to a place called Heaven and they haven't come back since. Do my parents hate me? I didn't do anything wrong! " Frankie said sitting up, drying her puffy eyes. Wilt felt a stagger in his heart for that last sentence.

"Frankie, I'm sorry, but don't you EVER say that." Wilt scolded, then continued softly, " They still love you and you didn't do nothing wrong. Plus, they're actually alive."

"I can't see them anywhere." Frankie argued.

"You don't have to Frankie. They're now angels in Heaven and their looking down on you. " Wilt said, making the girl interested. She crawled over to Wilt's lap.

"They are?" she asked as Wilt nodded.

"Mm-hmm, they wouldn't want to see you cry now. They want you to be happy." Wilt concluded. Frankie then hugged Wilt with her short arms around his small torso. He smiled down at her.

"Thanks, Wilt. You're my best-est friend ever." Frankie said.

"You're welcome, Frankie." Wilt said, trying to hold in his tears for her sentence. He sure wished his kid thought the same thing. His hand went around Frankie's body and hugged her tightly.

What he and the child had in common was that they both lost people whom they loved more than anything. The only difference was that Frankie's parents loved her back, but Wilt's kid didn't.

Later that evening, Frankie went up to her bed on her knees and prayed, "Lord, I hope you can here me. Please take good care of my parents up in Heaven and bless me and grandma and Mr. Herriman and all of my friends too. Especially, Wilt because he's my best friend in the whole world. Amen."

She turned around and heard a creak of her door. But there was nothing around. Wilt actually heard.

_1 year later…_

It's been a year since Frankie learned the truth and she had stopped waiting on the staircase.

She was excited to be apart of the Reunion Picnic for the first time to meet with other kids that made them and get to learn about their relationship before they were sent to the mansion.

Eduardo's child was a 12-year old girl who acted like she was 5 again, but she was more serious and protective when other kids were making fun of them both. Her glare would make them feel intimidated, including Frankie despite her being friends with the monster.

But, out of everyone she has met. Frankie wanted to know about Wilt a bit more, since he never mentioned about his kid or his friendship with him or her. "Wilt?" the young child searched through the halls of the whole house trying to find him. She was not having any luck finding Wilt, until she made it to the staircase leading to the floor. Wilt was sitting on the first step.

What she didn't see was his face filled with grief, with his hand on the side of his face. Frankie decided to sneak upon him, stalking him like her prey. She then pounced at him landing on his back, which gave Wilt a spook.

"Watcha doing in here? The fun's outside!"

"Oh, nothing."

"Where's your creator?"

"He's…uh…running late. So, I'm sitting here until he gets here."

"Oh…well, can I wait with you?" Frankie asked. Wilt nodded slowly. She then sat next to him. This reminded her of when she used to wait for parents to arrive until she learned the truth. Now Wilt was doing the same thing. As the day moved on, Wilt was reluctant to ask Frankie's number of questions. Mostly, his response was silence.

They sat on the same steps all day the next day until the picnic was over. Frankie was upset to not know anything about her best friend. She was helping Wilt pack all the decorations, "Why didn't your kid come?"

"I think he just couldn't make it."

"Well, maybe he'll come back next time."

"Yeah…maybe."

Every five years, he sat on the same step along with Frankie, doing the same thing, asking the same questions, Wilt giving the same answer: Silence. As the years rolled by, Frankie didn't sit next to Wilt anymore because she was getting involved a lot lately.

He then realized what he was doing, he was waiting for nothing just like Frankie did. Wilt got up and headed upstairs with the lights off and curtains drawn.

"_What's the point of waiting? He's never coming back."_


End file.
